Praying that her men were still in the parking lot, waiting for her at her truck, she put two fingers to her mouth. The whistle that emitted from her was so shrill and sharp, it pained her ears. Hatch cringed but grabbed her by the hair as she whistled even louder the second time, and tried to swing her head against the sidewalk. She grabbed hold of his shirtfront, scratching and fighting like a wildcat.
She heard running steps and hoped that meant that either her other two would-be assailants were fleeing the scene or someone was coming to help her. Hopefully both.
“Help me!”
Evidently, Hatch wasn’t used to women who knew how to defend themselves and he grunted and rolled when she used his own momentum to propel herself on top of him and her knee connected with his family jewels. Releasing her with a howl, Hatch rolled to his side, clutching himself in pain.
“Gwen!”
“Darlin’! Holy shit, honey!”
Relief filled her when both of her men ran to her as she plopped back onto her ass on the cold, wet sidewalk. Adrenaline raced through her, making her jittery as she watched Hatch roll in agony.
Noticing that she was revealing quite a bit of skin, she pushed the hem of her dress down and scowled when she saw the black scuff on her new boots. Son of a bitch! She planted her boot heel in Hatch’s butt as Julián and Chris helped her to stand. “When I said no I meant it!”
She would’ve stomped him one last time for good measure as people from the club came running, but Julián pulled her back in time.
“Easy there, tiger,” he whispered. She looked down at Hatch and figured she’d made her point as he turned green and looked ready to puke. Julián pulled out his phone and dialed 911.
Chris’s jaw was rigid like iron as he fisted Hatch’s shirtfront and lifted him clear off the ground. “Chickenshit motherfucker, let’s see you pick on someone your own size.”
Gwen wisely didn’t point out that few men were Chris’s size. He looked pissed.
Hatch groaned. “Fucking prick tease, she attacked me.”
Chris shook him by his shirtfront so his head bobbled back and forth. “Really? A little five-foot-four-inch cowgirl beat you up. That’s really the story you’re telling the sheriff when he gets here?”
Gwen chose not to point out that in actuality she had…or at least she’d defended herself to the point that her attacker was incapacitated. She hoped Chris didn’t get in trouble for manhandling Hatch as he gave him one more good shake.
“You were thinking with your dick—or dicks. We both saw your buddies running away from here. Actually, they were limping.” He glanced at Gwen. “Well done, darlin’. You okay?”
The jitters got the better of her and her knees started knocking together. She was on the verge of nodding, like the modern, self-sufficient girl that she was, but shook her head negatively instead. Her elbow began to throb. “No, I’m not okay.”
Chris dropped Hatch like a sack of potatoes and left him where he landed to go to her. It was over now, and she could relax knowing that nothing bad would happen to her, but her eyes still flooded with tears as he wrapped his big, gentle arms around her and blocked out the world.
“See?” she asked softly, a sob sneaking out without warning.
“See what, darlin’?”
“You’re my woobie.”
He pressed his lips to her head and she felt him nod. “I’m your woobie, darlin’.” He squeezed her and she felt a faint tremble in his body.
Nightclub patrons must’ve alerted Ethan to what was going on outside and he came running to see if they needed help right as Hank Stinson showed up. By this point, Hatch had regained the power of speech and alternated between blaming Gwen and denying everything. Hank shared a look with Ethan who nodded and pointed at the camera located on a security light nearby, and the camera located under the eaves of the nightclub building.
“All we was doing was inviting her to go someplace more private.”
“There’s a big difference between inviting and forcing. I told you ‘no’ four different times and then you tried to force me into your truck.”
Looking disgusted, Hank said, “It’d look better if you just told the truth, Dunlap. Wonder what your poor elderly Aunt Gladys will think of this?”
Hatch said, “I want my lawyer.”
Hank shook his head in disgust and walked over to where she stood with Chris. Hank peered at Gwen with concern filling his eyes. “You okay?”
From the shelter of Chris’s arms, she gazed up at Divine’s serious, gray-eyed sheriff. “I’ve been better. I want to press charges. I can identify the other two men. They were the same ones that came to Wilbur’s ranch a few weeks ago. The three of them intended to rape me.”